


Cirque De Trahison

by TheMechaBecca



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Al isn't in armor, Alternate Universe - Circus, Alternate Universe 1927 Germany, Evangeline Elric, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-21 20:09:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8259098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMechaBecca/pseuds/TheMechaBecca
Summary: Set in an alternate version of Berlin in 1927, Ling travels from Eastern China to this recovering metropolis in search of his missing sister. However, he is pulled into the demimonde of a strange circus that seems to be thriving in a time of economic chaos. Both madness and morality become meaningless as he explores the bizarre people that comprise the acts, all headed by a mysterious man known only as “Father.” What will become of Ling in such a world? Beware fellow traveler, for casualties seem to follow when the circus comes to town. Tags are subject to change, and they WILL CHANGE. THIS STORY GETS DARK VERY FAST. ENJOY!





	1. Chapter 1

The omnipresent smell of animal dung wafted through the air as thousands of bodies crammed themselves into the ornately decorated center tent. Although the show was over an hour away, this was the additional price to pay--besides admission--to actually get good seating in the circus. Ling Yao, however, was uninterested in seeing any part of the show, and fought the crowd to make it to the small village of wagons on the other side of the complex. Between the smells, the blaring fanfare, and the wooed rushing of the crowd, the man had little to affirm to him that this sort of thing was ever supposed to be a pleasurable experience.

To him, this whole exercise of attending the show was an act of desperation. Having travelled thousands of miles from his illustrious home in Eastern China to the smoggy thick of Berlin, the foreigner had followed a series of leads that eventually forced him to search the different circuses on the outskirts of the city. As he walked further away, and the crowd began to dissipate, he was finally able to increase his pace. 

Once inside the wagon town, however, he was sent right back into the commotion that had become so familiar to him. Strange people, stranger than the standard Germans, were moving things in preparation for the show. He’d never find his way around such a place. Hard as it was to admit, he would have to talk to one of the citizens of this strange world. He turned to a small young blonde, sitting on a chair. The poor girl seemed like she needed it, her leg and arm prosthetics obvious and unkempt. The wooden prosthetics were painted an odd grey, and even that veneer was chipping off from simple lack of upkeep.

She flashed a slick smile, as if she'd been waiting for the traveler for some time, and took a puff of a long drawn out pipe. Reclined against the confines of her perch, the girl put a hand out to the man, motioning for pay. If he meant to talk with her, he's need to do nothing less. 

The bustling performers passed by, each with a purpose known to them and them along, their eyes focused on the task at hand. Just before the foreigner could sit down, a large muscled man passed in front of him, apologizing profusely, and quickly hauling the cannon in his arms off towards some unspecified goal. Strange as it was, time seemed to slow as Ling neared the girl's gaze. Golden and nearly glowing, her eyes tore through him like needles, yet seemed oddly inviting. 

Her lips had been moving...how long had she been talking? Everything seemed silent until the last of her words made their way to his ears.

"But, I suppose you're not here for something like that..."

She had... quite the interesting eye color. He'd never heard of a person with golden eyes before. Could you get in the circus for gold eyes and missing limbs? Ling noticed her outstretched hand for the first time, and taking in the last few words, he realized that she was looking for a bribe. This filled him with the uncontrollable urge to not give her a bribe.

He smiled to feign stupidity as he could, and let his voice ring out in a high pitched and heavily accented chirrup. "I just looking around, very pretty here. Is custom where I come from to meet actors before theater show. To show respect. You very pretty."

Barely detectable, her eyes narrowed at his words. This was him, alright. Long hair, eyes much more narrow than she was used to, and the man had a certain quality about him that set everything into place, whilst setting him apart from the world around him. His clothes were well tailored, and he seemed almost completely deprived of the dirt and smudges that seemed to come with almost everyone else she'd encountered in her travels. As welcome as his flattery was, it wasn't going to get the man anywhere. Still, it was better than being called 'exotic'. 

She chuckled, then pulled her hand back. This guy wasn't gonna be giving any handouts any time soon. Pity.

"You're not gonna be able to ask any questions like that. I'm an actress, so lying tends to come naturally." She was blunt, inhaling smoke and letting it out in a soft stream before finishing her thought. "You're not very good at it."

His smile left his face, only to return a heartbeat later. "Was it that bad? Most people fall for it. I'm open to constructive criticism." His eyes roved around her. "You don't really look like an actress, and I've never seen a dedicated acting portion of a circus. So either you're a really bad actress yourself, or you consider whatever it is you do to be acting. You aren't a clown, are you?" His smirk was teasing, testing the waters to see what buttons he could push.

She tilted her shoulder back, gesturing to a large rounded man clapping mammoth sized hands to some sort of beat. "Not quite, he's the clown. Not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but he does alright." She held the pipe out, letting the oddly aromatic smoke take to the air. "I'm a gymnast. Though, I guess you could call me an acrobat. Surprised you got me on that last part, though. I'll admit, lying doesn't suit my tongue, but I'm not gonna give anything less than what I'm given. I try to keep things equivalent."

After getting a good look at the rotund man she had pointed to, he glanced back at her incredulously. "You? An acrobat?" Her wooden arm and leg seemed to be even more apparent. Both of them went past the joints. She'd be lucky to walk, much less perform feats of agility. Maybe she was some sort of comedy act, but didn't know it? "I apologize if I seem doubtful... it's just..."

“It’s just what?” Shifting in her stance, the girl drew closer, placing both elbows on the barrel between them, and resting her head on her palms.  
"See, that's the thing here. It's really easy to say someone's wrong because of appearances. This isn't the real world, chinaman, this is my world, and in my world, things aren't always what they seem."

He seemed almost entranced, and she proved her thought by reaching into his satchel and grabbing a thickly bound wallet, filled to the brim with ticket stubs, coins, bills, and an old picture of a woman she'd seen before. "You're not here for the act..." Her voice seemed to trail towards the ground, and the blonde simply grinned, returning to her lounging position. "Whatever you're here for's got a price, and you're not getting another word outta me without paying up." Again, she extended her hand. "I go by Equivalent Exchange. If you want something from me, I'm gonna need something in return."

"Well, aren't you a clever one." He snatched the wallet from her, and pulled out a hundred mark note. He let it tickle the tips of her fingers, then pulled it away before she could close her hands over it. "But I won't help you before I know you can help me." He took the picture out of his wallet. "I'm looking for her, can you help me?"

Slender and small, the picture managed to capture the light the young Chinese girl had in her eyes so perfectly. The golden eyed acrobat flinched at the sight, her eyes meeting with the traveler's in a moment of weight. "Her name was Mei, right? She found us in Hamburg..." Taking the picture from his hands, she studied it carefully before handing it back, a solemn look across her weathered face. "I'm sorry." These words were always difficult, and the number of times they'd fallen on her shoulders seemed to be mounting. "She fell for my brother...they were close...she died quite some time ago at the hands of one of our own. Jealousy isn't exactly the best trait to have with a temper like that..."

Ling bit his tongue, trying to choke back words of indignant frustration. Instead, he nearly choked on his own breath. "...liar... lying carnie... that's not true. You just don't want me to find her!" He soon started to seethe, and in a few moments he was raging, before he slackened and let the tears flow free. "Oh, what am I kidding. You Germans love your murder. Did you fucks dump her corpse in a back alley or something? After you beat all the loose change off of her?"

Seemingly out of nowhere, the girl pulled free a handkerchief and placed it in his hands. She needed no pay and paid no pity, and the times she'd seen this scene were too many to count. The acrobat wasn't much for comfort, but she did what she could, reassuring. "She got a proper funeral...it wasn't much, but it was honorable..." In truth, the blonde was almost used to the sight of it all, she pulled back her hand, and looked to a man stock tall in the distance. 

He was a fire-tamer, and a sturdy one at that. The raven haired man twirled two batons lit bright orange with energy, and tugging on the foreigner's shoulder, she did her best to explain. "The people that come here deserve better than what they get...that man over there with the fire...he makes sure at least in death they're given what they deserve."

He squinted at the sight of the man twirling fire. "Oh, yeah. That cheers me right up, to know that you burnt the body so the police wouldn't get involved. Kill my fucking sister, but at least she gets to be turned into ash and sprinkled over her favorite park!" He got up, nearly running away in anger before coming back to her. "Or was it an urn? Show me wherever you put the ashes... I need to go mourn and leave this fucking country. Go back home and tell the rest of my family to never go west again."

Eva froze, letting guilt seep through her facade. "Alphonse keeps the urn in his chambers like some sort of sick reminder of what this place does to people..." The disgust in her voice was unmistakable, and the blonde nearly spat in anger. They really had a chance. "It'd be much better in your hands...I'll get it back to you after the show." She placed her false arm on his hand, cautiously reaching out to the stranger. "I'm sorry you came all this way for a memory...this place tends to draw that sort of lost crowd."

A military man looking for his wife and daughter...a woman in search of a lost lover..a marksman looking to pay her way through school...their parade of freaks always seemed to swallow them whole, and here she was caught up in the eye of the storm.

So there was an urn... that really was it then, wasn't it? A part of him still clung to the hope that they were trying to con him with a vase full of ash from their last cookout, that maybe they were hiding her somewhere. He placed the note in her fake hand, which closed around it in a surprisingly lifelike manner. 

"Here, go buy some paint for your leg. After I pay my respects, I'm getting the Hell out of here." He dejectedly stomped away, cautiously making sure all of his possessions were in the same place. The circus was a place for pick-pockets, after all. He would suffer through a show for his sister's ashes.

Before the traveler could get any further, his hand caught on hers. The girl had nearly leapt up to chase him...strangely agile that one. She was tiny, and her face held a guilt that was hard to describe, the golden eyed carny placed the money back in his hands and gave a soft smile. 

"Look, if this were any other situation, I'd take this, but..." Her voice trailed off, and she released his hand to scratch the back of her neck, "you've come a long way for closure, and we owe you that much. I can't take this from you, you've lost enough as it is..."

He sighed, tears still streaming down his face. "Yeah, thanks. I'm sorry... I know it's not your fault. I'm sure you locked up whatever psychopath did this to her..." He coughed a little, using the handkerchief to blot out his eyes.

"I can't believe someone would do this to her. She was just a kid, didn't even make it to her 13th birthday." Ling’s sobs increased with each memory, every one of them closing on his mind like a steel trap. "She... she did love the circus, though. I hope that whatever happened... she at least got to live her dream for a while."

There was no way out now. She drew in a heavy breath and looked from the fire dancer back to the crumbling foreigner. Amidst the smoky haze, and with his flames settled at his side, the shirtless man gave only a nod, and a knowing look. They'd seen. 

"Listen to me," she started, serious as she could be, the uncaring allure from her voice had completely melted into sharp needles, "I can get you the ashes, but after that, you need to run. Go as fast as you can, run as far as you can. This place isn't safe for people like you...but, I wouldn't be doing right if I didn't give you the choice to stay. I can tell you what happened...it's not much, but you deserve to know. I can do that..." Her eyes panned to the ground, there was no getting around it, "if I had the choice, I'd run, but I can't leave this place...you have that choice..."

"Eva! Who's this? You recruiting another oriental after the last one died on us?" The voice was scratchy, and it was hard to place a gender on. 

Ling swung around, face red and death in his eyes, ready to fight whoever made the comment. The person--that's all Ling could describe him or her as--made eye contact with him in the most disturbing way. Beneath the veneer of civility, there was a sort of crazed cruelty to the person's eyes. It caught Ling quite off guard.

"Are you staring at me? Go ahead, get a good look. I doubt you'll see anything so fine." They brushed aside their long, black hair, which seemed to clump together oddly, like large blades of grass from their head.

Eva winced at their presence and the placement of their weight on her shoulder. Leaning against the blonde was one of their habits, and wasn't exactly one she was fond of. 

"His name's Ling Yao. Came here in search of his sister...you remember her, don't you, Envy?" The venom in Eva’s voice was eminent, but the girl seemed almost subservient to this creature. Her eyes connected once more with Ling's though, it was to identify what she was trying to communicate. 

"Envy and I have an act together. We're kinda a big deal here. I'm not exactly one of the seven, but I'd be lying if I said the name Fullmetal didn't draw a crowd."

Envy seemed to think it over, seemingly eager to get their words out in the open. "Let's see... did we ever have an exotic pipsqueak come through here? You're asking the wrong performer. They all look the same to me, after all." They were brash and unapologetic with their words, seemingly reveling in the fact that they could make themself more hated with every word they spoke. "Although, I think I do remember a little girl crying at night, praying to her brother to take her home. It's a shame he never answered her."

Ling's fist was clenched. He was fighting the urge to tear this freak apart. "...Fuck you..."

A grin coiled across the performer's face, clearly reveling in the moment."Better men have tried, but you aren't even my type. I don't do eggrolls."

Ling lunged at them, going for their throat. But in one slick movement, they’d maneuvered around him and took a knee to his crotch. Leaning over, they whispered in his ear. "Like I said. Better men have tried." Envy walked backwards towards the tent, blowing a kiss to Eva before turning around and vanishing into the dark. 

Eva shivered, pulling herself together, and helping him to his feet. Again, she looked Ling in the eyes, she had one shot at this. "I don't have much time before the show, so any questions you have, I'll probably have to answer later." She backed towards the tent, clearly uneasy from the previous presence. Envy seemed to have a hold on her, and for the first time since he’d met her, Eva looked worn. 

"Remember...you'd be better off running. I'll have the ashes here at the end of the show. I'm sorry for your loss." In her travel back to the tent, her limbs almost looked...metal?

"Don't talk to anyone else! Just me, okay?” She seemed wary, afraid that someone might have heard her. “I'll be back as soon as I can!" And just as she'd appeared out of the crowd, the girl had vanished into the swirling vortex of people.


	2. Chapter 2

So this was it? Heavy red curtains, freaks of all sizes, and smells both enticing and repulsive. She’d traveled so far for this, world, only to be swallowed whole. In his daze, he cursed the whole damn circus several times over. If the other performers were like that thing... there was no reason that his sister wouldn't have been killed. Ling Yao headed back to the show, which was beginning to show signs of actually starting. With a ticket in his pocket, and the numbers upon it memorized, Ling made his way to the gold lettering, took a seat, and finally let himself settle enough to cry. A few nice patrons of the circus concernedly offered him some popcorn, which he took with a thanks. It wouldn't fix anything, but this situation made him want to eat. 

Taking deep breaths, he steadied himself, and munching on a handful of popcorn, decided to try and enjoy the show. If he was going to have to wait until afterward, he may as well see what the other freaks here had to offer, see why his sister would have run off to a place like this in the first place, right? Lost in thought, he didn’t realize how much time passed, but with a jolt and applause, Ling was startled when the fanfare picked back up again, signalling the beginning of the show. A bearded ringleader walked out to the middle of the stage. As the spotlight dropped onto him, all became clear. He was in charge. He ran the show, and performers and audience alike wouldn’t hesitate in eating from the palm of his hand.

Silver haired and silver tongued, the Ringleader flashed a welcoming smile, holding his hands out like a god, and silencing the applause with a single gesture. The sheer command he held stole a brief breath of air from the crowd. Greater than kings and seemingly wiser than scholars, the man gazed into an abyss of smiling faces. The big top was draped with red and gold tapestries, each woven in silk, and hanging high in a tent that spiraled to the sky. It was as if light itself had been swallowed by the complex - all that remained: a single spotlight raining down where he stood. Was it him, or did the whole place seem tilted? As if the structure itself seemed to be on the brink of toppling down. A man of red and gold, dressed in nothing less. There he stood, speaking to the masses with words repeated time and time again.

"Welcome, Welcome. I'll tell you, it always fills my heart seeing the stands sold out, though I'll admit, it's certainly pressure to be better than we have been. Tonight, you'll be stepping into another realm. I apologize," he joked, letting his hands fall as he scanned the crowd. "some of you may not be able to find your way back so easily. But I can promise one thing: whether you've traveled thousands of days or minutes to reach your destination, we've got something for you to remember." He bowed, and the stage went completely dark except for a single red light where he'd once stood. This was it. The fall of reality.

With a crash and a bang, the music began once more, and a procession of Elephants carried the main performers on their backs. In one graceful motion, Envy and Eva propelled themselves off of the animals, Eva's arm and leg glinting off of the stage lights. They waved to the crowd before flipping out of the limelight. The crowd was roaring. A man with spiky hair and round glasses drove a motorcycle, pulling a wagon full of freaks. A scaly woman, a man with hair on his face, another with horns, and a final one with a massive tail. They all lunged at the crowd before retreating back and laughing amongst themselves. Following them was the bald headed clown from before, a scantily clad woman holding knives, a child dressed in elaborate arabian garb, a middle aged man with swords, and an absolute behemoth of a man who trudged dejectedly behind them all. There were countless others, too many for Ling to take stock of. It was an absolute mental overload, and with each trumpeting note, the whole thing seeming to move in slow motion. The performers bowed, before moving off. They would all get a chance to dazzle the crowd.

Lights once lit dimmed, leaving the stage in a dark haze, and all at once everything was enveloped in a green fog. With all eyes focused on the performers, it was easy to see why no one had noticed until now. Waving away the green smoke around him in an attempt to see, he coughed twice. It dissipated quickly, and there she was, wrapped in a black and white ribboned leotard, and suspended from a hanging wire. Flying Fullmetal: Terror of the Skies. She allowed herself to free fall, fabric trailing behind her, and braiding down towards the ring. Just before she hit the ground; a blue flash overtook the area, and she soared around the tent above the audience, held in place by limbs that couldn't possibly be real. When she finally became earthbound, she was joined by a familiar despicable creature. The two seemed almost in sync with each other. Both small, agile as hell, and doing flips that didn't seem possible. They had launched her all the way back to her trapeze with a single hand...it was almost easy to get caught up in the magic.

  

Envy couldn’t help but smirk. Eva may have been skilled, but it was their turn to steal the show. They made their way to a clear glass box in the center, held above the ground by wooden poles. A dismissive "Hmm!" escaped their lips as they pulled the front open and beckoned the Eva to help them inside. Envy began to fold themself, dislocating the joints in their arms so that they could bend them behind their back. They arched their back and folded upon themself so that they ended up resembling a piece of flat-pack furniture.

As cries of amusement and disgust swept the big top at the marvel, Fullmetal seemed to strut across the stage, limbs glistening in the light. Seemingly from out of nowhere, Eva pulled free a thick and surprisingly small suitcase. She held it up as if it were a marvel itself, parading around the ring before setting it where the contortionist lay mangled in place. With the suitcase directly below their container, and great effort on her part, Eva tipped the box over, and let them fall free. A loud snap echoed throughout the tent as the case's jaws snapped shut. The panic on her face was clear.

It was a mistake. They'd rehearsed this so many times...

Everything seemed to go silent and solemn, a few drops of blood from the box eliciting stirs from the crowd.  
“Envy? Envy!” Eva’s voice seemed almost frantic, which had Ling at a loss. Did she actually care for that thing? Her hands fumbled with the latches frantically, but the case wouldn't come open. Dammit! From the wings of their tent, out poured several performers, each taking a try to get the case open. As the tent fell frantic, Ling couldn’t help but let a breath of relief escape his lips, and a sick smile creep to his face. If this wasn’t part of the act - and there was a part of him that almost wished for just that - at the very least, this world would be rid of something awful. Eva stood to the side, one hand clutched to the arm of another performer, and the other to her heart. It was an accident... right?  
Perhaps this is what happened to his sister.

Ling bit back a lump in his throat, and stood to lead before a sight caught his attention, and slowly, he fell back to watch. Finally, a muscular man in a loincloth approached, and in hoisting the package over his head, he grinned, and flexed. Out sprang the contortionist, covered in what looked like blood, but clearly unharmed. Before anyone could register what had happened, the three remaining onstage took a bow.

The crowd hooted and hollered at the display, clearly relieved that it was all part of the act. These performers left, all except for the pill shaped clown man. "That was scary!" He exclaimed in an uneven whine. "But they left this big weight in the middle of the tent!"

He pointed to a massive weight that somehow materialized from the darkness. "And now I gotta clean it up!" The clown, Gluttony was his name, tried to lift the weight, but unsuccessfully bonked his head on the bar. Chuckles filled the tent.

Honestly, Ling found both of the men the slightest bit disturbing.The clown looked like some kind of hairless gorilla, and this new person… he was impossibly large. His hair formed the leaf-like sections that similar to Envy, but that was where the resemblance ended. He was an absolute mountain of muscle, and seemed uncannily tall. Around eight feet, perhaps? Could people even get that big and still be healthy?  


“Looks like I gotta call Sloth. Sloth!" He dramatically looked around before noticing an absolutely enormous man sleeping beside him. "There you are, Slothy! Can you pick up this heavy weight for me?"  


The immense man sighed. "Do I have to?"  


"Yes! Everyone wants to watch the show!" Sloth sighed again. He gave a half hearted OK before sinking back into sleep.  


"Slothy! No naps! Pick up the weight!"  


Finally, the strongman got up and began to clumsily plod over to the barbell. It must have weighed a thousand pounds.  


"I'm sleeping after this." He grabbed onto the weight and lifted it, carrying both it and Gluttony with seeming ease. "Tell me where to put it so I can put it down."  
Gluttony pointed in a direction, and Sloth dejectedly walked offstage. It was like the weight didn't even bother him.

There was a momentary pause as the laughter died down, the lessening reactions of the crowd highlighting the emptiness of the tent. The whole room darkened, allowing for a figure to saunter to the center of the stage, barely noticeable. It was hard to see what exactly they were doing, but they seemed to be fumbling with something. A sharp snap was heard, culminating in a solitary matchlight in the middle of the ring. And then the stage exploded.

From the blaze of fire rose a man twirling two flaming batons. Shirtless and sporting only a blue tailed coat and loosely fit trousers, it became clear in an instant what his draw was. Most carnivals had firebreathers and flame twirlers, but there was only one Roy Mustang.

His skin well-oiled and glistening in the light he wielded, his hands worked fast, spinning round two rods ablaze in the dark of the stage. The breaths from the women in the audience seemed to be stolen with a single glance. With a dazzling grin, the man lifted a bottle to his lips, then let flames fly from his mouth. The gasps and cries of amazement that rang out throughout the tent were like a song of their own. 

Ling's face was bright red. That man was hot... in more ways than one. One look from the performer, and steam practically came bursting forth from the foreigner's ears. While Ling had made a habit of burying that part of himself, this man was making his occasional attractions to other men glaringly obvious. 

Roy smirked, drinking it all in, his eyes managing to connect with the Prince's. He couldn't help but grin, amused at the young man’s stare. Leaping gracefully, he tossed his torches high into the air, spinning them high into the sky. As they started to fall back down, he jumped and flipped through the air once, catching them just before they hit the ground, rolling smoothly in his palms in a twist. The way he moved almost made it seem like the flames themselves were otherworldly, as if the fire were alive or if he could control it. Dancing like ribbons, the show ended with a final flourish, a flash of light not unlike how he’d entered, a billow of smoke, and then...he was gone, taking his dancers with him.

The Foreigner took a deep breath as a few fantasies passed through his mind. Sure, his family wouldn’t permit it, but here…

He shook the thought from his mind, then refocused on what was happening in the middle of the tent.

As if on cue, another impossibly attractive person had taken his place. Ling was honestly wondering where they found these people. Lust and Gluttony - it seemed there was a theme to these performer’s names. She seemed to be in grayscale, the only hint of color on her ruby lips. Lust’s hair trailed down to her hips, matching her skirt in length, and she seemed the only performer bored with everything. Still, it was clear she enjoyed the attention, and with a flash from her knives and a peak of a smile, the crowd couldn’t help but go wild. The enormous clown, Gluttony, was now on a spinning board, comically screaming. One at his head. One at his crotch. The rest lining his hands and feet.

Four more knives flew from the woman's hands, towards a pair of tattooed arms. They snatched each out of the air one by one. This person was… absolutely adonis-like. His face was inked up, red “X” emblazoned across his eyes. Which were also red… was that normal? The man glared, shaking a finger at the woman as he was joined by two large cats, and a young blonde boy with familiar golden eyes. They circled the beauty slowly, the younger performer's arms crossed smugly before his expression changed to one of amazement as a trapeze descended, sweeping her up before the tiger and lioness could take a bite. Applause swept the room once more. It was their turn on the stage.  
The golden eyed boy was quite striking, as well. While his face was youthful and natural, the rest of his body was a latticework of metal and straps. It seemed as though the Eiffel tower had been grafted onto the poor child's body as some sort of scaffolding. Still, he didn't seem at all in discomfort as he swiftly commanded the two big cats to jump through hoops. It seemed like the middle eastern man gave a whisper of a smile before snapping twice, which brought the two carnivores to his side. He relaxedly put each of his hands in their mouths, and withdrew them before they snapped shut. The man himself looked as though he could lift the two cats at once.

From behind him, an official looking elder with a sword stepped out of the darkness. He was in old army regalia, as if he were a relic, still ready to fight for Bismarck. He shooed the lion tamers off, seemingly emulating a military officer escorting the people of the circus away. Brandishing the sword to the audience, he the demonstrated size of the blade before licking the whole thing bottom to top and sliding it slowly, slowly down his throat. Only the hilt and a part of the blade was sticking from his mouth. He leaned over a few times, dragging a gasp or two from the crowd. 

Bowing stiffly yet gracefully, he snapped his heels to attention with the roll of a drum rattling off, people staring with baited breaths as he pulled the blade free, presenting it to the audience with a flourish, displaying the ordinary nature of the sword before taking it in his hand. Missing an eye, but muscular and strong, he smirked, making his way over to one of the ropes that held the tent in place. With a single motion, he swiped, cutting the thing that had held the tent suspended, and as the sky came toppling down, his sword tore through the falling fabric, revealing another tent in it's place, even larger than the first. Once again flames busted around the ring, but this time, behind the audience themselves as elephants began to parade around what they'd come to see as the end of the tent. The audience was right in the middle of it all. It was magic. And--Ling felt that he’d used this word quite a lot for tonight--impossible.

It confounded Ling as to how the tent could have possibly gotten bigger than it already was. He scanned the stripes of the outer tent until the rev of an engine brought him back to focusing on the center stage. 

A fur collared leather vest, huh? Not exactly circus attire, but freaky nonetheless. How did this guy fit in? Exhaust fumes. One scent he hadn’t missed from the paved german streets. Of course this show had to have a motorized bicycle. The spiky haired man from the beginning with round glasses drove a motorcycle around the expanded tent, before parading out what seemed like his own personal band of misfits. They jumped out of the wagon, letting their own unnaturalness capture the attentions of the circus-goers. They seemed to be proud of how they looked, getting in the faces of the front row viewers. It felt as though they dared the crowd to say that they weren’t beautiful for who they were. 

The man on the motorcycle sat back for a moment, seeming to soak in their happiness about the whole situation before yelling for them to come back to the wagon. Obliging, they raced to make it inside, the blonde snake-woman making it first and teasing the rest of her group. The motorcyclist revved the engine, snapping them all to attention before taking off down a strip of the ground propelling himself towards a hoop. The four people behind him braced themselves as he drove straight off of a ramp, seemingly floating the five-hundred pound machine through the air. Clearing the ring, he tilted backward. All with this wagon on the back. Ling nearly choked at the sight. That was just the slightest bit dangerous. Yet, they were all well, and as the cyclist slid to a halt, and dust spread out across the ring, all those around the foreigner rose in applause.

He paused...it was impressive…and they didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. A wink from the man in shades was all it took to pull Ling to his feet. He…he was just being courteous. They’d reached their final act.

For their final act, their crescendo, a little boy came out of the curtains. Ling had his doubts that this would be a suitable ending to the circus. After the performance that the spiky haired man had put on… he had to wonder what this kid could do. Still, the boy--dressed like a sultan-- smugly looked across the spectators. He reached out a hand, and plucked a spoon from nothingness. He held it out, only for it to twist and contort in his fingers like putty.

Feigning a yawn, he placed it back into oblivion and instead conjured a heavy metal bar. It was a solid lead pipe, similarly twisted into a pretzel. Ling was dumbfounded…he’d practiced with magic in his youth, but… wasn’t this just misdirection? The kid was bending a bar that seemed way too big for him to secretly use force on it. 

Bored with the way that the bar was bending so easily, he straightened it out once more, placed it on the ground like a cane, and crossed his legs in the air so that he was levitating. He soaked in the murmurs of the audience. He could tell that they were trying to figure him out, make up stories. He took out a large steel ball and let it levitate about a foot from his hand before it dropped back down.

Enough small stuff. Time to show off. Turning his attention to the stands he focused for a moment before the whole set of stands began to lurch upward. The prince let an audible, “Wow,” slip before retreating back into his thoughts. This was just some sort of mechanized lift, right? Could a circus like this afford something like that? The applauding audience was set back down, and the kid stopped levitating so that he could take his bow. He knew they’d fall for it. They were too stupid to know otherwise.

And then, like a wave, a deep red curtain carried out across the crowd, and once again a bright flash of black, red, and silver caught upon the traveler. One by one, familiar freaky faces and creatures took the stage - each entrance perfectly authentic to them and them alone. Gripping tight to the silk, Eva swung her way around the big top, Envy at her side, and the glint in her golden eyes all the more alluring under the bright spotlights. Once again, the Ringmaster rose from the smoke, and under an explosion of confetti, the crowd went wild with applause. Finally, a flash of light, the stage went dark. Riveting, captivating, and seductive, they'd been drawn into the illustrious magic the circus had to offer. It was only a matter of time before Ling fell like the rest.


End file.
